loving my pelvic floor is working.

The orange tabby cat I call Señor Don Gato is curled up under my arm as I lie on my stomach naked here in bed. He belongs to no one and yet to everyone all at the same time, much like me. 

Spanish love songs play in the background, as I roll around on the rubber sphere they call the “core-geous ball” that I place under my stomach to help ease the tension. It massages my womb on the outside to get to the muscles on the inside that have plagued me with a lifetime of bladder leakage and sometimes, just straight up peeing my pants. 

I've got to admit that I think loving my pelvic floor more is working, and so now I try to lie like this face down on my bed with the ball under my tummy nearly every day. Sometimes, the pain feels like sharp and twisted knives are scraping me from the inside, or like there are snakes writhing in my belly just under my navel. At times, as I lie here I can feel my heartbeat in my womb whimpering as it pulsates, and although it is oddly a little painful it also brings pleasure to my pussy.  

It’s getting easier, though, to do this every morning with every little twist, as I gently apply the pressure. Slowly, I am beginning to soften here and free up the movement often uncomfortably constricting my heavenly curvaceous hips.

Today, it’s like an extra special treat to have a warm and fuzzy, furry cat now cuddling up under the crook that lies between my bare belly and my right arm. I stroke his relaxed body lovingly and gingerly just like his color, which is the same manner that I now each day try to touch my own figure and soft smooth skin. As I do so, I celebrate its serenity, or sometimes even consecrate the sensations of my morning’s own desire and rapture.